


Begin and Keep Going

by Chocolate_milk



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Post-Canon, Public Masturbation, Shameless Smut, Sharing a Bed, Yamis Have Their Own Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:30:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22974898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocolate_milk/pseuds/Chocolate_milk
Summary: Bakura witnesses something he shouldn't while on janitor duty at Domino museum. Something strange, something exhibitionist, something that turns his whole world upside down. At least, until he makes a peculiar conclusion regarding his own self exploration, or lack thereof.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Begin and Keep Going

**Author's Note:**

> soo yeah. smut. thats all this is lol. it originally had a plot but i forgot it and had to compromise. actually based on a fic i've had in my head where all the yamis have their own bodies and have to adjust to modern life, u know, all that jazz. bakura works at the museum with the ishtars until he can go to school with ryou. maybe one day i'll write it...  
> kudos and comments are very much appreciated. pls validate me

.

"Fuckin' kids..." Bakura muttered to himself, huffing down at the broom in his tan hands. They'd really stumped him this time. Sure, kids (and just people, really) were stupid-- but this had been mindbogglingly so. Baffling, stupefying. Bakura kicked the pile of dirt he'd been brushing.

Mariku was shrieking, belching out what could be called laughing but Bakura considered squawking. Bakura made it a point not to turn and chastise him, sticking to his cleaning duty.

He glanced sideways up to a grand clock, one of the museum's finest. Half an hour till he could be off. Knowing the situation though, Isis might have him stay back and talk about what he'd seen and what methods he'd used to diffuse it. Maybe she'd reel back the security tapes and have Bakura re-watch, in horror, at what he'd witnessed.

If he was lucky, he'd sidestep all of that and leave his full head at the door and return home with a clear one. Unlikely but... Bakura knew crazier things had happened.

Bakura discarded the broom, throwing it against the ground-- 'I'll pick it up later'-- it made a resounding crash sound, blending in with Mariku's wailing of amusement. Bakura wanted to tell him to fuck off. But he didn't.

He turned, grabbing the mop handle, watching the sopping mop head dripping as he removed it from their bucket. Sent Mariku an angered, considering look that was meant to say "look, I'm doing your job now." Not that job loyalty was something the crazy-haired blond even considered. Bakura, on the other hand, took his job very seriously. Something to do with the past, probably. Though being a janitor-type-whatever-this-job-position-is didn't have the same plethora of rules being an ancient thief king did.

He mopped, aggressively and angrily at the spot in question at the corner of the room. There was a fair layer of grime over the stone flooring, cobwebs that you wouldn't notice unless they hadn't moved the large regal bench that had sat there before-- or unless someone had gone under it. Bakura still didn't know why they'd done that.

He felt Mariku's heavy footsteps through the ground, not surprised when the other's voice comes out a lot closer to his ear than he should be. His laughter had finally dissolved, but the tremor of amusement stayed.

"Think you missed a bit, keh." Mariku's hand popped from over his crouched shoulder, pointing at an unfortunate splash on the ground. The bejewelled hand stayed, mockingly, before it quivered in unshed laughter and Mariku keeled over again.

"Hysterical, isn't it?" Bakura asked, using his pent up frustration to 'accidentally' use all of his strength in slamming the handle of the mop into Mariku's stomach, who flinches considerable and is left on the floor, on his knees, gasping in between bouts of laughter. "Hilarious!"

Mariku popped his head up, eyes glistening with either tears of amusement or masochistic pain. He smiled a sly smile. "Come on, Bakura, you dog. Don't lie to little ole Mariku-- you've had the urge before. Behind a tomb or in the stock room, the danger just does it for you, keh?"

Bakura reddened incredulously, feeling shocked disgust at Mariku's suggestion. A weird tense feeling in his upper chest.

He let out an indignant cry, angered at the suggestion, the mere possibility. If the mop handle hadn't been bad enough, Mariku's head was soon assaulted by the mop head, unrinsed, sperm and all. Mariku had then attempted to scream out. Bad decision.

"Bakura!" Marik, the normal one, called from deeper inside the museum. Bakura's attention shifted immediately, dropping the handle and letting the mop fall to the floor, leaving Mariku spluttering in horror. "Isis wants to see you. Her office. Now, please!"

.

Isis sat back in her chair, finally pushing the screen of her laptop down onto itself. Bakura watched the still clip of himself, broom in hand, chasing the public wanker off as she pulled the screen down. His eyes stayed where the screen had been until he was stared intensely at where Isis' breasts were poking half out her shirt, he looked away aptly.

"You didn't see his face?" She asked again, after a long sigh. Her tone soft yet in charge, Bakura could hear a pinch of frustration-- this time not actively caused by him. Once again, she shifted her attention to him. "You don't remember any stand out details?"

Bakura growled mentally. He felt like he was being prodded by a stick, no matter how many times she rephrased the sentence, he couldn't magically conjure up another answer.

"I told you, didn't I? If I knew what he looked like I'd go out and catch him myself, I guarantee that. Excuse me for not being particularly thoughtful about his face," Bakura snapped back, "you're the one with clairvoyance, can't you figure it out?"

Isis frowned at his tone but kept her composure, the way she usually did with Marik. "I'm sorry to say this but, even once we forward the videos onto the police, without the details, they won't--"

Bakura cut her off with a baffled noise. "How can you just let him off?! Yeah, just let him roam around with everyone! He's a vile-- S-- Sex fiend!!"

"Bakura!" Isis said, firm. She sat up from her seat. "What else can we do? I know this has shaken you, but..." Isis heaved a sigh, "You're a valued member of staff here and I don't like to do this, but, I think it'll be best for you to cool off for a few days. Consider it a paid holiday."

Bakura tried to argue further, to no avail.

.

Bakura stomped back through the museum, not bothering to check back in with Mariku to finish cleaning every last surface, heading straight to the exit. He couldn't help the gloom-- the bubbling, seething, anger, confusion-- his teeth were gritted hard.

"Oh, Bakura," Marik was there, calling out to him. Bakura didn't bother stopping or acknowledging the other boy, he'd had too much Ishtar for one day-- no, too much Ishtar for an entire lifetime. He heard Marik tut under his breath, call out anyway, "Ryou's that way!" Then, as an afterthought: "With Mariku."

"Fuck." Bakura spun on his foot and stamped the other way. Only while mid spin did he catch a glimpse of Marik's quirked eyebrow and inquisitive eyes. Marik followed him, Bakura could hear his footsteps.

They turned a corner and then another one, the exhibitions passing them in a blur. Marik threw comments on bad placement and awkward predicaments as they walked but Bakura didn't have a sliver of patience for small talk and ignored him. He sped up, seeing an almost glowing figure in the near distance.

Bakura was done talking about 'it', he hadn't any intention to mention it (even in passing) to Ryou. But by Ryou's awkward, slightly dazed look as he glanced over at the offending corner's floor and Mariku's self-satisfied smirk, he was by now, well aware.

"Fuck," Bakura said again, with conviction this time.

"You should have said," Marik stressed as they steadied to a more comfortable pace. Hands on his hips as he sighed at Bakura, a mindful look passing his features. "If you didn't want him hearing about it, you should've told me."

'Don't you think I don't know that?!' Bakura wanted to scream, instead, he shot Marik the most vicious look he could conjure. But it was too late now, Ryou knew, the last thing he'd want is to seem particularly affected-- which, bear in mind, no matter what anyone said, he wasn't. Ryou would pry and try to help him and Bakura would feel helplessly weak. He shot Marik a harsh look, again.

"Right there?" Ryou was saying, Bakura watched the back of his head as it tilted, benign. "That's... nice. And what did Bakura do, again?" They hadn't noticed Bakura and Marik yet and chatted on.

"Isn't it just?" Mariku cackled but not in the over-exaggerated way he did to irk Bakura. "Well, Bakura, he-- keh heh-- Bakura, he was repulsed. He went psycho. Bakura chased the guy out before he'd managed to put his dick away."

"Someone did that at school, once." Ryou nodded, looking thoughtful.

"Ryou, let's go," Bakura said, calming his voice. Ryou turned, he'd changed out of his Domino high uniform and was in a more casual get up, his face lighting up with a smile at seeing Bakura. Bakura let go of some of the tension between his shoulders at seeing his former host. He didn't bother sparing Mariku a glance, already sensing the shit-eating grin on his face.

"There you are! Interesting day at work then?" Ryou asked, obviously guileless. He sent a quick greeting Marik's way, as an afterthought. At least Ryou didn't seem overly concerned with Mariku's relay of events but it still unnerved the former (sometimes current) thief.

"So you've heard. He's totally exaggerating, though." Bakura grabbed Ryou forearm, ushering him along. "Let's go."

"See you!" The Ishtar's called after them, Ryou returned the formality. Once Ryou's vision was shifted back in front of him, Bakura turned to send the two a nasty look. By the time he did, Mariku was the sole figure-- crude gesturing at his crotch with rapid hand movement and sending Bakura a truly lecherous grin. It was not reciprocated.

.

The trek from the museum to Ryou's dingy apartment was a journey and a half but the walk gave Bakura time to think and consider. Ryou had given up prying for details when he saw Bakura was in a brooding type of mood. Instead, he linked their arms comfortingly and made for a warm smile.

He burrowed deeper into his coat, frowning to himself. He couldn't help the feeling like he'd been witness to a terrible act of barbaric villainy. Which was stupid. 'I've seen much worse,' Bakura thought to himself, thinking back to Egypt, 'so much worse. I've done worse, for heaven's sake.'

Bakura had taken lives on his mission for salvation, so many lives and many in cold blood-- yet the seeing some depraved figure pleasuring himself under a bench had left him shaken and sick to his stomach. He heaved a sigh, kicking a stray pebble in front of him.

"I've been laid off for the week, by the way," Bakura said, finally remembering the fact. Ryou glanced up at him, confused. "Overstaffed," Bakura lied, watching Ryou's eyes cloud over in thought, seeing right through Bakura. Of course, they both knew it was mostly just Bakura and the Ishtar's at the museum nowadays. It was an obvious lie. Despite that, Ryou kept quiet, nodding. With a light hand, he stroked Bakura's arm.

Ryou probably thought he'd beaten the guy-- or something. That Bakura had been suspended from work. Bakura huffed, annoyed at himself.

Although he kicked himself for not being honest with Ryou, his mind felt almost unable to breach the topic, at least, not out loud. The fact was, Bakura's mind felt like a broken record; playing around with that one topic. 'It'. Masturbation. What a strange word.

He wasn't sure about the normality of this but Bakura reckoned he hadn't masturbated for about 3001 years. Even back then it hadn't been commonplace and less than gratifying and he hadn't thought about it since then. He hadn't even had the urge, not properly, not enough to actually do anything.

Back in Egypt, before the Ring and before coming back from banishment, his penis was quite simply the object that would continue his bloodline. In that way, he'd held a fair amount of pride, but his standards had been impossible high and never satisfied by the women who had been offered up to him. 

Of course, if he was in any safe sanctuary he would relieve himself if he saw fit. But safe sanctuary's were few and far in between.

But for the most part, an erection was an involuntary reaction that he'd began to ignore. They would pop up when the adrenaline was high, inappropriately-- after his first kill-- when his blood was pumping through his body. They began to come with a deep, looming shame. He guessed that was when it stopped being so satisfying.

But now... now he was wondering why he stopped.

Since the incident Bakura couldn't help feeling an over-awareness of crotch and why he hadn't done 'it' for such a long time. Yes, he wouldn't have chosen such an unconventional spot but it wasn't as though he didn't have a roof over his head and a fuck ton of privacy most days.

Except, Bakura wasn't so sure if he should. He had abstained from it for so long-- and although he hadn't been overly aware of if it was normal or abnormal at the time-- he couldn't help a tense pressure telling him he shouldn't bother, especially when it seemed so peculiar. It felt taboo, wrong.

"A lot on your mind?" Ryou asked with a concerned smile but he didn't seem overbearing. Bakura immediately felt stupid and denied any allegations. Ryou just sighed and shook his head. "What do you say about getting some food? I don't feel like cooking tonight."

"Fine with me," Bakura said, finally-- truthfully he'd rather be at home but he wouldn't turn down steak, not ever.

.

A hazy morning feeling overcame him, mind still foggy as he arched his back into a stretch, hips shifting comfortably. He was slept on his side, although he always fell asleep on his stomach. Weird. A yawn escaped him.

Bakura burrowed further into the warmth next to him, taking a deep breathe and savouring the smell of cocoa butter shampoo. Ryou. Bakura grunted in a sleep pleased way, waking himself up slightly in the process, as he was still shifting ever closer.

Since last year when Bakura came back to the realm of living, they'd slept like this. The arrangement had happened quite naturally. Ryou had a double bed and he hadn't questioned Bakura clambering in next to him. Bakura never thought twice about the routine.

"Unghh..." Bakura's hands came up to rest against Ryou's waist who was propped up next to him, rustling rousingly despite his slumbering state. Ryou's shifting seemed to activate something in Bakura that had him pressing closer to the other boy.

Bakura, still in a trance-like state, rubbed up against Ryou feverishly, feeling him shift against where Bakura's hips were pressed against his. Bakura let out a sensuous sigh and breathy moan-- waking himself up in the process. Awake enough to feel the heaviness between his legs and Ryou press sleepily back towards him. His erection twitched against Ryou's sweatpant clad behind, warm and inviting except Bakura had lost all his sleep fuelled inhibition and moved his hips to a quick stop.

He bit his lip, he had half the mind to keep moving but his respect for Ryou stopping him, as well as his respect for himself. 'He gives me a home, a warm bed, that he, god forbid, let's me share just for me to do this? What is wrong with me?' Bakura thought, self deprecatingly, but not enough to move away from Ryou's supple body.

He huffed in a mixture of shame and pleasure and lied there, motionless, hoping that sleep would take him once again. God's hated him. They showed this by letting the disruptive beeping of Ryou's alarm ring out.

'Fuck.'

Ryou groaned into a drawn-out yawn, stretching lightly from where he lay. Then he reached out onto his bedside table, turning the racket off. Bakura waited with stilted breath for him to shove Bakura away. He awaited the rejection painfully, not daring to move an inch.

Ryou settled back next to Bakura, shifting ever closer. His hand travelled up until it was rested on Bakura's hand (which, Bakura realized with horror, was still nestled on Ryou's waist). He wondered if, with just a touch, Ryou could tell how feverish Bakura's skin was.

Ryou was awake now, he must have been, which made it a peculiar disturbance when Bakura felt the pressure increase momentarily against his erection. Ryou was shifting languidly-- in a way Bakura couldn't tell if purposeful or otherwise-- he noted Ryou hand grappling harder onto his, moving his head back until Bakura could feel soft hair caressing his face. He could feel Ryou's body against his, ever closer.

He listened to the almost rhythmic sound of Ryou's breath before the hand was gone and the warmth was gone and the beeping was back.

Ryou's alarm went off a second time which he shuts off quickly, this time sitting up grabbing the device off the table with a huff. Then, Ryou was out the bed, making small and light steps towards the door.

Then he was out and Bakura puffed out a mixture of relief, confusion and arousal-- which hadn't gone down even slightly since the whole ordeal.

'What the fuck?' Bakura's eyes were wide open. Breath coming out unsteady.

He didn't know what force overcame him, but after listening to the bathroom door go, Bakura trudged after him, leaving the bedroom door ajar, as Ryou had left it. He crossed the hallway to the door directly opposite the bedroom with feather light steps.

Bakura, swallowing back the guilt and disgust of what he was doing, pressed his ear against the door.

At first, he heard nothing but the sound the water running and then that stopped and the room sounded as quiet as death. Bakura stood there still, despite the horrible thought of Ryou opening the door and finding him there pressed against the door like some kind of pervert.

But he had a hunch, a feeling-- his overwhelming pride couldn't let him go back to that bed, back under the covers and back to the sweet embrace of sleep. The silence continued.

Then, over the all-consuming silence, Bakura heard a gentle whine from behind the door and his heart leapt out his throat. His heart wasn't the only organ that reacted, as his cock twitched from behind his boxers. He heard Ryou let out a sensual moan and gasp, although quiet, and the unmistakable sound of slick skin on skin.

Bakura found his legs almost betray him, wanting to hear the boy's sweet climax almost desperately. After a few seconds more of listening in on Ryou's muffled moans of self pleasure, Bakura gained enough sense to quietly journey back to bed. Heart beating erratically. He didn't sleep again, lying awake, panting open mouthed, waiting out his arousal.

His hands didn't travel down to his boxers, no matter how hard he wanted them to. They shook and grasped the sheets as he forced his face into Ryou's pillow, breathing in deeply.

He stayed there indefinitely, at the edge of gratification, though not obvious enough to show the state he was in to an outsider. At least, until he heard a knock on the bedroom door and Ryou's soft voice call through.

"Bakura, I've left some breakfast for you in the kitchen. Try not to make too much trouble when I'm gone, alright? I'll see you later," He called gently, which Bakura managed a grunt in reply-- which wasn't suspicious as it was what he always did, although he felt dirty this time.

Ryou closed the door and Bakura listened with heightened senses as the front door was unlocked, then clicked shut behind him. He finally let out a huff of relief.

Bakura clicked the 'on' button of the lamp on the bedside table and for good measure, he pulls open the first draw of the drawer and grabbed out one of Ryou's spare nightshirts. Then, he settled back onto the bed, skin feeling on fire. He pushed the shirt up to his nose.

His hand began working it's way down, down to the tenting of his striped boxers, shifting the fabric down on his hips and gripping his erection, finally doing what he hadn't done for 3001 years.

.

"Holy shit..."

Bakura breathlessly surveyed his hand, letting his limp dick fall out of his grip and into position, hardly anything had even come out that time but luckily he finally felt spent. Unable to do anything more than settle back down and catch his breath... for about 30 minutes until he was ready to go again.

It was midday now and Bakura's head was clear enough to glance over at the clock and see that Ryou would be home soon. Guilt grappled at him at the thought of Ryou but the thoughts contorted at his high levels of testosterone and 30 minutes became 5 and then Bakura was ripping out yet another orgasm. His refractory period was truly something to behold.

He huffed, shifting off the bed. He had about 40 minutes until Ryou was back from school and confronting the strangely intense sex-heavy smell from the bedroom. The thought made Bakura flinch somewhat inwardly.

He considered his options before heading in the shower, washing off any remnants of shame he had leeching off of him and resisting another session with his hand.

His hair was sopping wet when he stepped out the shower and he glanced at the blow dryer, considering. "Don't have time," he said finally, slicking his chin-length silver hair down over his head, it popped up in unruly spikes anyway.

If he was lucky he would still have time to change the bed sheets and pop the old ones in the wash-- so Ryou didn't have to see the sticky mess Bakura had made of them-- no, he'd have to do that first, he reasoned, because he'd made a mess of Ryou's nightshirt too and if Ryou noticed that it was game over. Because it was, quite frankly, drenched in come.

Unfortunately, that meant working the washing machine, which Bakura wracked his brain for 15 minutes to remember how to do.

Nervous energy was bounding through him by the time he'd got the laundry in, knowing Ryou was likely on his way back at the very moment. He grabbed a half-full bottle of Febreeze and some clean bed sheets and busied himself in the bedroom.

He got it done, somehow. He breathed out a sigh of relief, resisting the urge for a well done wank. The room looked normal now except Bakura, inside, felt he had stained the room with a perverse tint and his usual pride couldn't help him swallow down his shame.

Unable to help it, his mind drew back to the sweet, ever so sweet sounds Ryou had been making this morning and Bakura sat down. 'Technically...' he began to reason, feeling heat quivering through him at the memory, 'when he sounds and feels like that... This was all inevitable. How could I resist?'

The sound of the front door opening and closing cut off Bakura's thought process and brought his mind into a mindless jumble of 'Ryou'.

"I'm back," Ryou called innocently through the house. He didn't realise this, there wasn't any way for him to know really, that Bakura had spent all day painting the room right just on the thought of him-- and them doing it-- under a bench somewhere. Bakura made his way into the kitchen, where Ryou had definitely gone-- Bakura could hear him rustling about.

"Hey," Bakura said, stepping into the room. Watching Ryou's figure from behind as he went through some shopping bags. He let his eyes wander, down to Ryou's waist, his hips and then directly to his bottom, it was the least depraved thing he'd done today.

"Sorry I'm late," Ryou said with a light chuckle, he grabbed some of the groceries and turned to smile at Bakura before moving them to the fridge, "I could have been here 20 minutes ago, but, I went to get us some groceries. Sorry if you were bored. Look, steak, your favourite."

Bakura nodded but he couldn't help it, once again, like a dam had broken and all the thoughts and feelings that he'd evaded for so long were coming at him full throttle. He felt arousal budding in his gut, in between his legs. Just being here with him, it was too much.

"I saw Rishid at the shop, he says that Isis is always talking about how hardworking you are. I was so happy to hear that. He also told me that..." Ryou prattled on, words not registering to Bakura.

His head was spinning, only half hearing what Ryou was saying but all he could think of were the glorious moans he'd heard earlier that day and the soft, warm pressure of Ryou's inviting body against his own. The supple and pale flesh against Bakura's own feverish bronze skin.

"...Bakura?"

Bakura gulped, trying to ground himself back into reality. "What?" He forced the words out, coming out more breathy than he'd intended. Ryou was stood at the food cupboards, turned so he was facing Bakura and his face was contorted in concern-- worry.

Soon he was moving in closer, grasping Bakura's arm in a loose grip. Ryou was staring at him with glassy green eyes, eyebrows cinched up in worry. Bakura struggled to keep the eyes contact, to keep his heart rate steady and his arousal down, he failed at all. His violet eyes found an exceedingly interesting spot on the floor.

"If this is about what happened yesterday... that guy... I know you don't want to talk about it, but I know it upset you..." Ryou dropped his grip on Bakura's arm and enveloped him into a loose embrace, which he tightened when he felt Bakura's hands catch his waist. "I want you to know that I'll always be here for you if you want to talk to me about anything. I'll be here no matter what."

Bakura's senses went into overdrive as he accepted the hug without any ado. His head pressed into Ryou's neck, breathing in deeply, breathing in the same scent of the nightshirt-- the shirt he'd drenched in his seed. The heat from this morning coming back to him, the warm, pliant body against his. So naive and sensual, so tempting. He couldn't resist it, not a bit.

"B-Bakura! Wha--What are you..."

He started walking forward, dragging Ryou backwards with him, not letting go or letting Ryou's embrace leave him. He kept his head pushed firmly into the groove between Ryou's shoulder and neck, as he guided them forwards, trapping Ryou between him and the counter. Finally, he pushed their bodies further together, rutting his pelvis forward and grinding his manhood against Ryou's.

Ryou spluttered, grabbing at Bakura's shoulders and pushing him back to no avail. The lip of the countertop was digging into lower back painfully and all he could muster out were gasps and whines for Bakura to let him go. He choked back a moan as Bakura began an assault on his neck, licking, sucking and biting at the exposed skin all while his hips were still rubbing against Ryou's, his physical interest soon seeming very apparent.

Bakura left mark over mark on Ryou's neck, stopping and letting out groans of pleasure at his covered erection finally meeting Ryou's budding interest after so long, too long. He pressed them together roughly-- too roughly to bring him to a premature finish-- too roughly for Ryou, too, if his uncomfortable whines were anything to go by.

"K-Kura," Ryou managed, panting and pushing hard at Bakura's shoulders, calling out when Bakura hitched Ryou's leg up and rubbed them ever closer still. "S...Stop! Let me... My.. A-ah!"

"Don't... Don't tell me to stop," Bakura said, feeling the sting of rejection. He lapped at Ryou's neck before raising his head so they were face to face, lusty eyes meeting Ryou's with a spike of dejection. He leant down to kiss the other, letting his breath fan over Ryou's lips-- watching green eyes slide close-- and stilling. "Not after last night. I was... awake, you know. Teasing me like that... What am I supposed to do?"

Ryou's eyes slowly opened, hazily meeting Bakura's own. He struggled to keep his eyes from dropping to the former spirit's lips. "I was awake too, last night," Ryou let out a gasp of breath as Bakura continued his grinding, "you started it. You were-- you were-- Ah!"

Bakura pulled back slightly, letting his grip on Ryou's leg drop. He stared dejected for a second. "What?" Bakura asked, voice raspy and inpatient.

"My back," Ryou explained, face red from the incitement. "You keep pushing me into the counter... Maybe... The bed?" Ryou trailed off, embarrassed.

Bakura's eyes darkened, clouding over lustily. He grabbed Ryou away from the offending counter and presses him forward instead, further into Bakura's erotic embrace. He advanced further on Ryou, gripping the back of his fluffy white hair, pushing their mouths together.

Any thoughts of moving to the bed leapt out his mind as his lips met Ryou's soft ones, moving against each other like a frenzied dance. They would just have to do it here, he supposed, against the counter.

He let his tongue lick over Ryou's lips, feeling Ryou's hand meeting his hair in a harsh grip. Bakura felt a tinge of self-satisfaction, roaming further between Ryou's lips so that their tongues lapped against each other. Pulling away just to come back together feverishly.

He pulled Ryou's leg up again, entwining them further. The friction of their bodies causing Ryou to pull away with a gasp, Bakura panting at their separation.

"Last night..." Ryou said. His hot breath fanning over Bakura's awaiting lips. Bakura bit his lip, forcing himself to let Ryou finish. Bakura's eyes meeting Ryou's, still dazed. "You were rubbing against me like this, then, too-- I almost couldn't control myself--"

'Not until you got to the bathroom, anyway,' Bakura's insistent mind thought, thinking back to the soft moans he'd overheard. He wanted to hear it again. Almost desperately.

Bakura cut Ryou off with a nip at his lower lip before pressing them together harshly, cutting the other boy off. Another wave of arousal rocked through him, pulling away from Ryou to shed them of their shirts, discarding them on the kitchen tiles.

Bakura's tanned hands splayed over Ryou's exposed torso, savouring the newly exposed skin.

Ryou let out a slight shriek as Bakura's grip changed to bracing around his hips, boosting Ryou up until he was sat upon the countertop. His hands found Ryou's torso once again, this time, his mouth joining his assault.

Ryou's breath hitched as Bakura's mouth latched onto a nipple, a free hand pinching at the other one. He fidgeted as Bakura lapped and nipped at him, shifting his hips. He let out a breathy moan at Bakura's ministrations. His body's positive response to Bakura's advances was now overwhelmingly obvious. Now without Bakura's insistent body pressing against his own, Ryou began to notice how under stimulated a certain appendage felt.

Luckily for him, Bakura noticed too. Pulling away from Ryou's nipple, to lap at his neck and then finally until they were face to face to survey his reaction as his hand scoured it's way to the tented material of Ryou's trousers.

Ryou's head lazed back, exposing more of his ivory neck, letting out a heated moan.

The next thing he registered was that his pants were off and strewn out with their shirts and Bakura's warm grip enveloping him, intoxicating him. He let out a pant as Bakura's hand, damp with perspiration, began to pump his arousal languidly.

Their mouths connected in a wet and leisurely kiss, interrupted by desperate pants and gasps. Bakura's grip didn't let up, not leaving Ryou with much of a chance to catch his breath. He slipped his tongue through Ryou's spit moistened lips, dominating him completely. His own arousal was pressed against the counter with little to no stimulation and he could barely take it, his only salvation being Ryou's muffled calls.

Bakura's spare hand pushed his sweatpants down to his hips, feeling them ride down till he could kick them off completely. His dick sprung up, engorged and wanton, his spare hands grip coming to enclose around it. He huffed out in satisfaction.

"Fuck..." Bakura muttered himself, husky and airy, regretfully pulling away from Ryou. He took a second to catch his breath before abandoning his previous ministrations and grappling Ryou by the hips, grabbing him off the counter and back against Bakura, pressed flush against each other.

He leant his forehead against Ryou's letting their breath mingle as they panted.

Ryou's arms caught around Bakura's shoulders, hips moving on their own accord. Their needy erections finally meeting skin to engorged, heated skin. He moaned as Bakura's hand came down to pump them together.

They continued like that for what felt like a euphoric eternity until Ryou's shaky hand came to grip on Bakura's wrist stilling him. They paused, panting, to catch their breath before Ryou left a soft kiss on the side of Bakura's mouth, whispering to him.

"..Bedroom..."

Bakura didn't need to be told twice, dragging the other through the kitchen, letting the door slam carelessly behind them. He struggled down his arousal as they crossed the hallway, kicking open their bedroom door, pushing them both through.

He pushed Ryou against the bed well meaningly. Watching the boy's hair strewn out behind him and against the fresh bed sheets. Bakura knew there was no way he could stop now, but, then again, when did he ever hold himself back from what he wants?

Bakura spread Ryou's legs as he clambered onto the bed after him, settling between them. Pressing their mouths together before letting their bodies press against each other too.

Ryou pulled away suddenly, eyes dark and clouded, lusty. "I... I've never..." He puffed out, out of breath.

"Me neither," Bakura confessed, although the statement was oddly ego-bruising, he still felt fine. Better than fine; just rearing to go. The thought of Ryou staying pure (not technically for him but...) was gratifying. Bakura wanted to take that from him, near desperately.

Bakura kissed him again, rubbing their lower halves together. He savoured the moans that Ryou couldn't help letting out, no matter how hard he tried to stifle them.

Bakura ravaged Ryou's mouth until he felt a prodding at his shoulders and Ryou's light arms pulling them away. Ryou reached for the nightstand, grabbing a conveniently placed bottle of hand lotion. He dropped it down on the bed and reached up to kiss Bakura once more, face reddened at the thought of going further; of what was soon to come.

Although his lack of experience could have had Bakura at a loss of what to do next, pure instinct ran through him and his body seemed to know what it was doing. He coated his fingers in the lotion, not breaking their kiss.

Gently, as not to disturb Ryou, Bakura shifted the other's leg further to the side, letting his hand leave a sticky residue over his thighs. Bakura's fingers trailed up towards Ryou's inner thigh, closer to the heat between his legs. His fingers massaged around the erogenous zone, soon slipping into the groove of his bottom, feeling around for puckered skin.

Ryou broke away from the kiss, gasping, his eyes were closed. When they opened, they were clouded with want and unsureness. Bakura bit at his shoulder.

The first finger (Bakura's middle finger) soon breached the hole, sliding into the tight heat with minimal resistance. Ryou huffed, uncomfortably. His leg twitched, moving to spread more, without Bakura's prodding this time.

Bakura retreated from Ryou's neck, sitting back between Ryou's legs. His face was damp with sweat and positively florid. Bakura looked down, watching the single digit slip in and out of the other, a lecherous smirk over his features. Ryou's hands gripped the sheets tightly, bunching at his fingers.

Once Ryou had stopped flinching at every thrust back in, Bakura let his index finger join. Pushing into Ryou and earning a sharp intake of breath. Bakura watched his face contort in an emotion bordering arousal and reluctance-- like Ryou wasn't sure what he was feeling. He watched how Ryou's body reacted to every thrust of his fingers; how he would squirm away at certain motions and push back at others.

Bakura's dick throbbed, arousal swamping him. He wet his lips before leaning down and capturing Ryou's, kissing him deeply. While still in their embrace, Bakura quirked his fingers against the walls of Ryou's hole, massaging. Ryou arched his back, whining into their kiss.

Bakura smirked, withdrawing his fingers and listening as Ryou sighed at the loss. He re-coated his fingers with lotion, rubbing them over his painfully hard cock until well lubricated. He hissed out in pleasure, not missing how Ryou's eyes peeked open to watch him.

"...Ready?" Bakura asked, staring into Ryou's hooded eyes. He received a nod back, before Ryou lied back again, shifting into a more comfortable position. Bakura grabbed at Ryou's arms, which were still gripping the covers and dragged them around his neck instead, watching Ryou redden at the intimate position.

Bakura grabbed his shaft with shaky hands, lining the leaking head with Ryou's hole. He took a deep breath before shifting them ever closer, watching the crown of his penis disappear inside Ryou. Bakura grunted, pausing, before pushing further in. The tight, squeezing, heat was unbelievable. Euphoric. He pushed deeper inside, moving to lick at Ryou's lips. He felt Ryou wince against him but couldn't find the will to stop or steady himself.

Ryou whined his name as Bakura slowly rocked out before pressing back in, feeling the arms around his neck latch on tighter. He continued rocking back and forth before he felt Ryou's body relax under him, body stop resisting his girth.

He delved in faster, grunting into Ryou's ear who moaned back. Bakura's thrusts were animalistic and frantic, the force of them knocking the bed frame up against the wall loudly.

"A--ah! More!" Ryou pleaded desperately, hanging tightly onto Bakura's shoulders. His prostate receiving an onslaught of stimulation, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Bakura heeded his calls and adjusted appropriately, thrusts becoming ever more powerful.

Bakura reached between them, not slowing down, grabbing Ryou's leaking erection that was bouncing between them with his still slick hand. He pumped in time with his thrusting, leaving open-mouthed kisses on Ryou's neck, whose head was thrown back in pleasure.

Ryou's wanton moans grew louder, unlike how he'd heard them through the bathroom door-- this being so much better. Bakura could feel his climax gaining on him, a tightening in his groin. By the way Ryou's thighs tensed with each thrust and his desperate pleas, Bakura knew he was close too.

"Fuck! I'm--" Bakura cut himself off with a husky moan, burrowing his face into Ryou's shoulder. He continued his frantic thrusts even as Ryou called out, arching up and painting their stomachs a sticky white.

He could feel Ryou's walls tighten around him as his orgasm wracked through him, thrusting deep inside of the other and feeling his seed spurting out. Bakura stayed buried inside Ryou as his body quivered, waiting until the very last drop of come was deep inside of his partner before limply pulling out.

He collapsed next to Ryou, thoroughly spent, breathing deeply. He turned, watching Ryou's chest rise and fall.

Bakura watched Ryou as he turned and rustled around in the bedside table for a second before turning, confused. 

"I swear I had a spare nightshirt, we could've used to wipe down. It's not there, though. Weird." Ryou, unaware, moved to settle back down next to Bakura.

It was a good thing Ryou didn't know what state the shirt was in, Bakura thought. He wouldn't figure it out until he sorted out the laundry tomorrow and saw the suspicious staining, but, by then, it would be too late. Bakura had already claimed his prize.

"Weird," Bakura said back, noncommittal.

It hadn't lasted as long as he'd hoped. But, as it happened, Bakura's refractory period was something to revel at and he was rearing to go again before 15 minutes was up.

As it happened, Ryou's was quite remarkable in that way, too.

.

"A week off did you well, Bakura," Isis said, arms crossed, she had a mindful smile on her face. Like a proud sister, or something. "I'm glad to have you back."

Bakura had grunted, accepted the broom she passed his way and travelled into the back rooms of the museum, sweeping between the unseen treasures and whatever else they decided to keep in the back. Ryou's diorama was still back here, somewhere.

Truthfully he did feel lighter. Like he'd let go of some tension he didn't realise he'd been holding or just let out some pent up frustration.

Bakura heard the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps behind him and frowned. Sure enough, Mariku popped out from behind him, Marik trailing after him. Mariku leant against an impossibly high stack of priceless books and smirked, lecherously.

"What?" Bakura said, in greeting, sharp as ever. Whereas Marik-- who wholly accepted Bakura's antisocial nature-- nodded back. Mariku threw his head back and laughed.

"Aren't you in high spirits, thief?" Mariku asked mockingly, teasingly, tongue poking past his lips like a toddler. "Just thought our lovely Bakura might just want to know that the manic masturbater has been caught by the coppers. It's a sad life when you can't even relieve yourself, keh." Bakura blinked and looked up from his sweeping at this.

"It's true," Marik said, "apparently this guy's been a disturbance for a while now, they just haven't had the evidence to arrest him. He wears the same clothes every time, though, so our security tapes turned out to be quite useful. It's good you reacted how you did, if you hadn't, I don't think Isis would have forwarded on the evidence. We even had the DNA."

"At least, the bits Mariku didn't digest," Bakura said, pleased with himself. The mop head had proven more of an asset than he'd ever have expected. A good weapon, a good source of evidence, perhaps he would invest in one for himself.

"Hey! I spat it out, you peon!" Mariku spluttered in anger. Marik blinked, confused, but laughed, thinking he'd missed out on some inside joke.

"It's crazy though, Domino had a serial public masturbater and we wouldn't have known jack about it if we hadn't been at the right place at the right time." Marik looked contemplative-- Bakura considered the fact. "Any of us could do this stuff and the rest of us wouldn't have a clue, it's weird to think about."

.

**Author's Note:**

> weekend well spent. thanks for reading!!


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